


Maladaptive

by naboojakku



Series: Holiday Themes [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alien Biology, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood Drinking, Blood Rituals, Body Horror, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Chases, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Come Marking, Come Swallowing, Complete, Dark Magic, Darkfic, Doggy Style, Dominant Kylo Ren, Eye Licking, F/M, Fingerfucking, Forced Bonding, Forced Pregnancy, Fucking, Full Moon, Gratuitous Smut, Horror Erotica, Human/Monster Romance, Hunting, I love her dearly, Immobility, Implied Pregnancy, Kidnapping, Large Cock, Licking, Loss of Virginity, Magic Cock, Marathon Sex, Mating Bites, Mating Rituals, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Painplay, Missionary Position, Monster Kylo Ren, Monsterfucking, Mutants, Mutation, Nipple Licking, Non-Consensual Touching, Other, POV Rey (Star Wars), PWP, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Kylo Ren, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rey is 17, Rituals, Rough Sex, Rural Setting, Shameless Smut, Size Difference, Size Kink, Soulmates, Spells & Enchantments, True Mates, Unhappy Ending, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), alternate title: dumb girls doing dumb things in the woods, anti-ginger sentiments, bitter sarcastic Rey is a joy, but he appears late-30s, dubcon, fated mates, for Rey anyway, forced mating, happy valentines day im single and it shows, high school rey, mate hunt, monsterboy's age is undisclosed, multi-limbed, neck biting, ngl she's kind of into it, noncon, primal play, satanic rituals, so the usual, this was a rush job, valentines day, wyoming - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29378769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboojakku/pseuds/naboojakku
Summary: After Rey and her friends enact a blood ritual during a full moon the night before Valentine’s Day, she soon discovers there's one monstrous entity that’s been eagerly awaiting a summons.
Relationships: Jannah & Rey & Rose Tico, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Holiday Themes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983166
Comments: 21
Kudos: 109
Collections: 2021 Reylo MonsterLoving Valentines





	Maladaptive

**Author's Note:**

> **monster Kylo's a goddamn licking machine and I not-so-secretly love it 🙏🏼**

Tonight’s moon is a full one, which only makes sense for the questionable activities planned. 

Full dark? Check. Creepy, unexplored wilderness behind Rose’s house? Ditto. “Dark Magic For Beginners Guidebook,” complete with detailed illustrations and instructions on how to summon your true love and, if romance isn’t your thing, at least fourteen other unnatural entities? Check again. 

The girls are dressed in head-to-toe black, hair shoved under beanies. They crept out of their homes in the dead of night to meet up in the dense forestry behind Rose’s neighborhood of palatial mansions. They told no one of their plans. Just in case something goes wrong—a casual stipulation that made Rey blink twice—they don’t want any accidental witnesses. 

All in all, Rey isn’t feeling as nervous as she probably should. It all feels very _high school drama._ Camouflaged outfits, sneaking around, the witching hour—it couldn’t get more textbook if they were starring in a supernatural CW show with mediocre ratings. 

Maybe Rey’s calm stems from her absolute certainty that Rose cannot possibly do any wrong. For Christ’s sake, the girl cries when she accidentally steps on an anthill in the middle of the sidewalk. She hasn’t missed a day of school in years; back in September she even dragged herself to math class with a hundred-and-two degree fever. Rey’s convinced Responsibility is actually her middle name. 

Or maybe it’s because tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Cue vomit emoji. Cue eye roll. Cue sarcastic laughter. Hearts, candies, pinks, reds, chocolates, oversized teddy bears wearing I LOVE YOU bow-ties—everything about the holiday screams _cute_ and _romantic_ and _if you’re single today you don’t matter._ Girls flutter around with wide eyes and dreamy smiles. They wear heart-patterned skirts and white ribbon in their hair. Restaurants are booked to capacity. Rose bouquets are sold out. 

Of course, if you are single like Rey, it kind of sucks, but at least there’s a fuckload of discount candy left over on the fifteenth. Walgreens usually has a decent selection, and she isn’t above stealing if the items are less than fifty percent off. Morals are for chumps. 

Or maybe, just maybe, her calm exists because Rey doesn’t believe in any of this shit. Potions and magic and especially that idiotic notion everybody’s always carrying on about: love. Total waste of time. Reality isn’t so rose-tinted, so whimsical. Reality fucking sucks...and sometimes a good distraction is the best remedy.

So here she is. Midnight. Woods. Oh, and a full moon glaring down at them. 

Rey yawns and bounces on the balls of her feet. It’s crazy late, and she hasn’t been getting much sleep lately. Freezing wind snakes through the bare trees, soft and insidious. She and Rose exchange looks. 

_We’re really doing this, then?_

Rose’s eyes narrow. _No, I dragged you out on a Thursday night for no reason._

_Cut the sass,_ Rey’s own eyes demand, affronted. _I’m here, aren’t I?_

Bazine sighs impatiently and rolls her eyes, but Rey notices that they immediately dart to the wooden box in the middle of their small circle. Jannah cracks her knuckles like she’s preparing for a fight, and Kaydel tucks her hands under her arms. 

It’s only thirty degrees out, and unfortunately Rey forgot to bring a scarf. Mittens too. (She’s woefully unprepared for this outing, and that’s because she only decided to join at the last minute.) In fact, she’s pretty sure she doesn’t even own a pair of mittens at all. Unkar would consider something like that a waste of money. 

Yeah, he’s a bucket of fun, that one. 

“Hands,” Rose demands in her quiet voice. She’s taking her role as guide very seriously. The five of them are arranged in a small circle on the leaf-strewn forest floor, the soil dark and damp beneath their knees. A chill breeze whistles through the trees. Wyoming winters suck. 

Almost midnight now. If any of them are caught out here so late, they’re going to be in a world of trouble. Rey winces as she imagines Mrs. Tico’s shrill, You’re grounded! Unkar probably won’t care what she’s doing, but he definitely won’t take kindly to being woken up at this hour. When he drinks, he sleeps like the dead—and he _always_ drinks. 

With a subtle eye roll, Rey extends her hand. Each one of the girls places two fingers on the closed wooden box. It’s empty now, the contents strewn to either side of Rose in neat piles, arranged according to relevancy of the ritual. 

Hey, her girl’s organized, if nothing else. Strangely focused too, like this whole scene means a lot to her. And hey, maybe it does. The contents of the box promise _true love, soulmates, romance._ Rey hasn’t missed the shy looks Rose throws their classmate Armitage Hux. (She’s not very subtle about it, frankly.) The dude’s kind of a jerk, but he apparently has enough charm to win over her friend’s affection. No small feat. 

Bazine shifts uncomfortably and huffs. “Why can’t we just—”

Jannah throws her a nasty look, and Rose glares at her sharply. They were all forbidden to open their mouths from the moment the ritual started. The only one who’s allowed to talk is Rose, who’s like the ringleader—the director of tonight’s little show.

Rey stifles another yawn and burrows deeper into her oversized black coat. The tip of her nose is bright red—she can just see it if she crosses her eyes—and she sniffles every now and then. If she gets a cold, or the flu, or something even worse like pneumonia, it’ll be all Rose’s fault. Maybe she’ll forward the Ticos her medical bill. The thought makes Rey smile. She can be petty when the occasion arises, even downright nasty if pushed, but never to Rose. 

Bazine, the one most reluctant to join tonight's activities and the girl Rey would most like to punch in the nose, sighs heavily but settles back in place. She might not really want to be here, but at least she’s not willing to cause any problems. Besides, if she was truly uninterested, she wouldn’t have bothered to show up. Not like this midnight rendezvous is mandatory. 

Jannah beams at Rose with an encouraging smile, as if to say, _No worries, girl. Keep going!_ Jannah’s always been the group’s cheerleader, the girl who effortlessly motivates and inspires. Tonight’s endeavor probably wouldn’t be happening if Jannah hadn’t reassured Rose a thousand times over that everything’s going to be _just fine._

Rose offers a tentative smile back and briefly looks at the instructions. With a deep breath, she holds up a single object so it gleams in the moonlight: a penknife. 

Ah. Right. 

Rey’s stomach clenches, and she glances quickly around their tight circle. Kaydel goes even paler, which seems downright impossible. Bazine’s expression wavers into a frown, and even Jannah bites her bottom lip. But she doesn’t protest when Rose jabs the thin blade into the tip of her finger. Blood beads almost immediately, and when Jannah adds pressure, it oozes from her finger like sludge from a sewer pipe.

Bazine wrinkles her nose and looks away as Rose pokes her finger next. Kaydel’s eyes are shut, and she’s already folded in on herself, finger extended. Finally, after a few quiet whimpers and pained grimaces none of them try to hide, it’s Rey’s turn. Things are moving a little too quickly. 

_But you don’t believe in this shit, remember?_

She swallows heavily but gives Rose a small smile. It’s not like she’s being forced to do this. She agreed to come despite the risks. What else was she going to do, sprawl on the sofa with a carton of chocolate milk and a bag of Cheetos and watch five hours of mindless television until Unkar stumbled home and she was forced into her bedroom? Or maybe crawl under her ratty gray covers and masturbate to monster porn on a site so depraved there’s always at least fifteen ads and warnings to click through until she reaches the desired video? 

No, thanks. Been there, done that.

Even if she doesn’t believe this voodoo-witch-soulmate love spell will affect anything but her sleep schedule, Rey would still rather be a part of something than left behind. For once, she decided to say _yes._ Instead of automatically opting out and scurrying home before someone pushes her into a locker or smears mayonnaise in her hair. 

Rey hisses through her teeth as the knife slices open the tip of her finger. Rose gives her an apologetic look before jabbing herself and setting the penknife aside. They all seem to let out a collective breath when the torture device is cast away. 

As one, they each place their bloody finger on the wooden box and press down. The second finger—thumb for Rose, index for the rest of them—is supposed to stay clean of the sticky mess. 

Apparently, the juxtaposition of the two fingers represents life and death. Rey wants very badly to roll her eyes, but for Rose’s sake—and because Bazine would sneer—she simply stares straight ahead. Totally cool with this whole situation, you know? Positively unaffected. Not at all worried about messing with something best left alone. A ritual is one thing; a _blood_ ritual is next-level insanity. 

Just asking for trouble. 

Rose inhales deeply. Her face is set, eyes focused on the wooden box. The only reason she’s doing this—to the best of Rey’s knowledge, anyway—is because she’s desperate for Hux’s attention. He’s a bit of a ladies’ man, and he enjoys mercilessly teasing girls until they either go home crying or, bizarrely, fall in lust with the red-headed clown. 

The whole thing’s more than a little ridiculous. All this fuss over a _ginger?_ Really? In truth, Rey never realized just how desperate Rose had become until tonight. Just now, in fact. Blood voodoo in the middle of the forest at midnight is blind commitment at its finest. 

Then the chanting begins.

Naturally, it’s in Latin. Rey understands none of it, and a quick glance around the circle tells her the other girls are just as confused. Bazine even looks bored, but then of course she does. That’s her signature look. Some girls wear resting bitch face: Bazine has perfected the art of the blank, expressionless mask. Must be nice to be so unaffected by life. 

Rose’s eyes are glued to the instructions. Her voice rises and falls with the specific intonations required of the ritual, and all five girls keep their fingers pressed to the simple wooden box, mouths thinned into tight lines, Kaydel shivering, Jannah smiling expectantly. Rey wonders offhandedly who Jannah, the only out bisexual at their school of a hundred students, is crushing on this week. She has a sneaking suspicion it might be the tiny girl currently summoning dark magic in the name of true love. 

_Not my business,_ Rey reminds herself sternly. Jannah will love who she loves, and so will Rose. It’s not anyone’s fault she’s so undesired. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why she watches so much Frankenstein porn (a really niche kink, apparently)—the lack of affection seriously fucked her up. 

Finally, after an endless interval in which Rey toys with the idea of falling asleep standing up, the chanting ends. The strange words cut off abruptly, and Rose’s voice fades under the glossy luminescence of the moonshine. Just like that, it’s over. 

For a few seconds, no one moves. They all stare down at the box, as if it’ll give them a sign the magic’s worked.

But nothing happens, and nothing continues to happen. Rey suppresses a smirk. Of course it’s bullshit. Seriously, what did they expect? Men to swoop down from the dead trees and kiss them on the mouth with ravenous affection? Maybe now Rose will cool her jets about Hux. (Wishful thinking, probably, but Rey’s very familiar with the temptation of impossibilities.) 

“Well, I guess that’s it.” Sure enough, Rose sounds disappointed. Almost devastated. 

“Can we go home now?” Kaydel’s teeth are chattering audibly, and her lips are tinged faintly blue. She’s wearing at least three layers of sweaters, though—how the hell is she _still_ so cold? Rey finds it kind of irritating, actually. If you can’t handle a little cold, go the fuck home. It’s not like the girl contributed much anyway. 

Bazine rises gracefully to her feet and stretches her arms high above her head, yawning. “So glad I was dragged out of bed for this. I’m leaving.” She snaps her fingers at her cousin. Kaydel staggers up, eyes wide with reproach. “Later, bitches.”

 _Who are you calling a bitch, whore?_ Rey thinks nastily. But she bites her tongue like a good friend and simply ignores the girl. 

A few feet away, Jannah’s hugging Rose tightly, and she murmurs something inaudible. The two eventually separate, though reluctantly on Jannah’s part, and she offers Rey a weak smile, which is returned with equal exhaustion. Then she’s gone too, disappearing among the towering, skeletal trees. Another chill breeze spears through the forest, sending dead leaves skittering across the hard earth. 

“Well.” Rose’s shoulders slump. “That’s that, I guess.”

Rey takes a steadying breath. She doesn’t believe in magic or spells or even true love, but it’s obvious her friend does, and that’s all that really matters here. She knows how to pretend, and she’s done it often for less important things.

“Did you expect Hux to pop out of that thing like a jack-in-the-box?” Rey teases, slinging an arm around Rose’s shoulders. The “carefree friend” act is getting old, but even in her exhaustion she willingly puts in the effort. “Listen, I know you love instant gratification—“

“Hey!”

“—but give it time. It’s been, like, five minutes.” Rey gestures grandly at the sky. “Full moons are always good omens.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Rose mumbles, rubbing a hand across her eyes. She stumbles over an exposed tree root. No tears here—they’re both simply exhausted. 

Senior year has proven to be fucking brutal. Exams every week and an hour of homework for each class, endless school dances and unsupervised parties, countless extracurriculars and expensive college applications—for everyone else, at least. Rey’s staying right where she is. Forget college. There’s no extra money for that. There’s no money, period. 

“You’ll be in class tomorrow?” Rose asks timidly. She looks small now, shrunken. It hits Rey then how much she’s been relying on this to work. Which seems strange and pointless, but then, so is astrology, and that particular area of interest has suckered in millions of avid followers. 

Rey nods, yawning. “Bright and early. I promise I won’t ignore my alarm.” Not the first ten, anyway. After that, it’s anyone’s guess if she'll make it. 

“Thanks for coming tonight.”

Rey shrugs. “No big deal. I don’t think it was a complete waste.” She pauses, but Rose doesn’t add anything, so she changes tack. “Besides, I bet all the Valentine’s Day candy will be on sale tomorrow. We can stop at Walgreens after school.” 

This brightens Rose’s expression, which is reward enough. They part at the edge of the forest—Rose heading towards the big mansions clustered in the town’s only neighborhood, Rey to the far outskirts. She has to walk over a mile to reach Unkar’s trashy rancher, and thanks to yesterday’s light dusting of snow, the roads are slick with patches of black ice. 

Rey shoves her hands deep into the pockets of her Salvation Army coat. Tonight’s little excursion was nothing more than an excuse to get out of the house for a few hours. She has zero expectations, but who knows—maybe Hux will suddenly notice Rose. If that happens, Rey figures missing a few hours of sleep will have been worth it.

A strange, wavering howl breaks the brittle stillness of the night. She extracts one hand from the warmth of her pocket and tiredly raises her middle finger at the moon. 

_Go the fuck to sleep._

💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

She’s on mile two of five on her walk home from school when her phone buzzes.

Assuming it’s a text, Rey ignores it. Could be a random number. Sometimes she gets texts that make no sense. Different languages, weird symbols. Probably drunk people or someone having a stroke. She’s never answered. 

If it’s Rose, she can wait too. They literally spoke not twenty minutes ago. So far no Hux activity, but that could potentially change at any time. Bazine snapped her gum and ignored her in favor of Poe Dameron, this week’s flavor. Kaydel kept her head buried in a book all day. As usual. 

The Wyoming sky is a quiet, unassuming slate gray. Rey’s lived here her whole life, and she doesn’t need to watch the local weather station to know what that means. More snow. Maybe a blizzard. It’s mid-February and prime-time for bad storms. They get at least ten every winter. Literal hell. 

In honor of Valentine’s Day—and a secret ode to last night’s escapades—she’s wearing all black again: jeans, hoodie, shoes. A dash of heavy black eyeliner and two cheap black rings she stole last year from the local Goodwill complete the outfit. No pinks or reds or whites, no hearts or teddy bears or lace ribbons. 

Niima Outpost High School covered the “romance” aesthetic well enough on its own. Today the hallways were decorated with red and pink streamers, while bowls of conversation hearts were left on the corner of every teacher’s desk. In between classes, the administration played songs like “Love Lockdown” by Kanye West and “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri. That last one gave her vivid flashbacks to sitting in a darkened movie theater watching Bella marry Edward. Cue luxurious vacation on Isle Esme. Cue gross pregnancy montage. Cue graphic birth of monster baby. 

Anyway. 

Ah, Valentine’s Day. A Hallmark-exclusive ploy for better sales, some might argue. An opportunity to throw away money on oversized plushies and thirty dollar boxes of chocolate. It doesn’t matter much to Rey. She’s never been in love, and aside from Rose’s uncharacteristic fascination with Armie Hux, she’s never been witness to it either. Love is the amorphous thing seen on TV—Jim and Pam, April and Andy, Damon and Elena, Lucy and Ricky. Love isn’t for people like her who have been tossed aside like trash, left behind without a second thought. 

Fuck love. Fuck Valentine’s Day. A joke of a holiday. She’ll take the bag of discounted chocolate bars and laugh at the couples who publicly break up next week. 

Her phone continues to buzz. Rey throws her head back and sighs at the sky. The only good thing about living in such an isolated area, not just of the country but the entire state of Wyoming, is that she’s hard to reach. Being unattainable is something she strives for—she’s never been and likely never will be a lover of people. But a phone makes unattainability impossible. She’s always been a pretty solitary person too—reliant on no one, surviving through sheer force of will—and except for the occasional hangout with Rose, she prefers to keep it that way.

But now Rey whips out her phone and jabs a finger on the green accept button. No getting around it, apparently. But she pauses before bringing it to her ear. Caller ID shows it’s Rose’s mom. She’s the one who paid for the phone, who insisted Rey program in her number—“in case of emergency.” As if anything exciting happens in bumfuck, Wyoming. 

“Hello?” she asks tentatively. 

“Oh, Rey, honey!” Mrs. Tico’s voice is piercingly high. Rey winces and pulls the phone away from her ear. _Ouch._ “Where are you?”

“Uh—“ She’s in the middle of nowhere. Once she reaches the city limits—and she’s at least a mile past that point—there aren’t any signs for many, many leagues. Or landmarks, for that matter. So she offers, “Almost home.” Then remembers to ask, “Why?”

“You need to get inside,” Mrs. Tico says quickly. “As soon as possible, Rey. There’s a—“ She breaks off to speak to someone out of earshot. Could be Rose or her older sister, Paige. 

“Mrs. Tico? Are you there?” 

Silence. Not the good kind, either.

Rey stops in her tracks. She’s still over a mile from home. It usually takes her nearly two hours every day to walk the distance, but she doesn’t mind. Once in her bedroom, she’ll lock the door and stay burrowed under her covers for the rest of the night, watching TV or reading a monster fantasy book. Lately she’s been into Brandon Sanderson, though. He’s written, like, a hundred books, and they’re all really neat. 

“Mrs. Tico?” she tried again, casting a nervous look over her shoulder. 

“Get home, Rey.” Rose’s mom sounds scared, which immediately pushes her into Alarm Mode. Parents are supposed to be the calm ones. Why the hell does it sound like she’s close to pissing her pants? “There’s a wild animal on the loose! It’s heading through town and—”

“There’s—what?” Rey frowns. Wild animals aren’t uncommon around here. They live in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by mountains. It’s pretty common to see or even encounter moose, bears, and bobcats. Gigantic, scary animals with gigantic, scary appetites. 

“Mr. Calrissian—Jannah’s father, honey—discovered all his sheep this morning.” 

_Discovered._ Adult speak for _found, like, super dead._

“And there’s more,” Mrs. Tico continues breathlessly. “Dead bears—grizzlies, they think—near Sheridan. At least a dozen. The sheriff isn’t sure what it is, but—” She breaks off again and says something sharp to the person behind her, just out of earshot. “Just _please_ go home, Rey. As fast as you can!”

Sheridan is the closest big town. Fifty miles away. Which, in Wyoming distances, is basically right next door. On their front porch, really. 

Rey swallows down the ball of fear in her throat and picks up the pace until she’s practically running. “Okay. Okay, I’ll—I’m on my way.”

“Lock the door when you get there!” Mrs. Tico takes a steadying breath. “There’s probably nothing to worry about, dear, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Wild animals are named so for a reason. They shouldn’t be rampaging through a civilized town,” she babbles. 

“Right.” In her mind, all Rey sees are vivid snapshots of torn-open bears and sheep with their fluffy coats scattered in white clouds across Mr. Calrissian’s vast pastures. Bears, for Christ’s sake. What could possibly be big enough to slice apart a fucking _grizzly_? 

“Please text or call me when you get home, okay?” Mrs. Tico sounds genuinely worried, which sends a spark of warmth shooting into her stomach. No one’s ever worried about her. 

“I will,” Rey promises. She hangs up, shoves the phone into her coat pocket, and begins to sprint. 

She makes it only half a mile before she’s forced to slow. Thanks to a pure and consistent diet of Ramen noodles and Mountain Dew, she’s little more than skin and bones and woefully out of shape. Her chest rises and falls at a rate embarrassing for someone her age, and she wheezes every breath like a lung cancer patient. But her adrenaline is still running high—so high she might’ve downed three shots of espresso, which she’s vowed never to do again—and she power-walks the half mile home. 

Unkar’s not home, which is a concern for once, not a relief. Who’s going to stand in the way if a monster bear slams through their front window? He definitely offers the chance of a much better, more fulfilling meal. 

She slams the door shut behind her and throws the two deadbolts in place. All the lights in the cramped little house are off, and she keeps it that way. The less attention, the better. This wild animal could be anywhere—dozens of miles away—but until she receives the all-clear from someone, she’s going to dive into bed and hide. 

Rey flings off her dirty white Vans and changes into saggy black leggings and an oversized hoodie with the Kool-Aid Man embroidered on the front. Rose went through a crafting phase last year and made about thirty crochet tops and embroidered shirts before she ran out of steam. Rey wishes she had enough money to experiment with hobbies. She’s jealous, but not in a mean way. Not like Bazine, who sneers every time Rose’s parents gift her a new Gucci purse or expensive makeup from Sephora. 

Stuffing Flamin’ Hot Cheetos in her mouth, Rey flips open her crummy laptop and clicks on the Netflix shortcut. Mrs. Tico set her up with a separate account so she can watch whatever she wants whenever, which is just about the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for her. She’s slowly making her way through season three of _The Office_ —US version, of course. Duh. 

All worries about wild animals and possible break-ins evaporate as soon as the familiar theme song plays. Rey drags the covers over her head and allows her mind to fill with stupid pranks and crass humor. 

Six episodes and an empty bag of Cheetos later, Rey yanks off the comforter and discovers that her room’s been enveloped in an uneasy dusk. A fine layer of snow covers the windowsill, and the temperature’s plummeted again. She shivers—the heater clanks and whines from the utility closet in the hallway as it struggles futilely to warm the house. She adds an additional pair of socks to her frozen feet before escaping to the bathroom.

While she’s on the toilet, padded toes curling against the cold linoleum, someone taps on the front door. 

Rey frowns and yanks up her leggings. Who could that be? They don’t have random visitors—too far from town for that—and neither she nor Unkar have friends. (Well, aside from Rose and maybe Jannah, but they’re not allowed out this far.) Probably not a good idea to be roaming the town while a wild animal’s loose, either. 

She walks softly down the hallway, eyes on the front door. There’s no obvious movement on the other side, but that doesn’t necessarily mean no one’s there. Or maybe a bird flew into the window. That’s happened before. The dumb things mistake the glass for an open hole and swoop face-first into it like mini kamikaze planes. 

Rey stops before the closed door and sets an ear against the wood. She listens for a long time. Nothing. 

With a sigh, she retreats to her bedroom. Definitely just a bird. Stupid creatures. There’s a reason people casually throw around the insult “bird-brain.” 

Another tap. Rey freezes on the threshold to her room. What the—? 

Two more taps, and then a heavy thump. Like a fist instead of a finger. No longer dainty but determined. Insistent. 

Her throat and chest tighten. Oh, holy shit. There’s someone out there!

She swivels around slowly and peeks around the door frame of her bedroom. All the times she’s been home alone, _today’s_ the day someone decides to pay a visit? Who could it be? Not Rose or any of her other semi-friends. Maybe Mrs. Tico come to check up on her. With a start, Rey realizes she never texted the woman to let her know she arrived home safe. 

She steps into the hallway again, fingers twitching at her sides, when an enormous _BANG_ rattles through the house. With a surprised yelp, Rey stumbles back into the wall, eyes wide. What the _fuck?_ Who the fuck thinks it’s okay to just—

A flurry of hard blows rains down on the front door until the old thing quakes in its frame. Even with two deadbolts in place, it won’t last long. The house is ancient, and Unkar hasn’t been maintaining the exterior, the same way he’s been neglecting the interior. At this point, a strong wind could probably knock the house over like a deck of cards. 

Something punches straight through the window beside the front door, and Rey screams. Her body moves on autopilot: bolt into the bedroom, close and lock the door. Check the window, pull down the blinds. It sounds like someone's using a military-grade ram to penetrate the front door. 

Again and again, the house shakes. Plaster rains down from the ceiling, and with a terrified whimper, Rey dives beneath her bed covers. She wraps them around her like a giant shawl and squeezes her eyes shut. This is her only safe place. Nothing can touch her here—not Unkar, not bullies, not monsters. 

Someone’s breaking into the house. Rey repeats this to herself, forcing it to sink in. Naturally, she’s all alone, too, miles from help. Unkar won’t show up until midnight, if she’s lucky. There’s no one to call out for assistance, no one to save her from—

Wait. Why the hell would somebody rob _this_ place? It’s a fucking hellhole! Everybody in town knows they live in near-poverty. She’s pretty sure the scabbed lawn and loose shingles don’t scream **WE HAVE MONEY HERE.** Is it one of Unkar’s co-workers? He makes deals with them all the time—maybe he owes them money. Or something. Rey’s not sure how that whole criminal lifestyle works. Shows like _NCIS_ tend to exaggerate.

Maybe this is all just a misunderstanding. They could’ve been knocking for a long time, and because she’s so engrossed in the Jim and Pam saga, she completely missed it. She can’t blame them for getting frustrated. If she goes to the door, explains the situation—

Glass shatters. The house quakes again, and the walls themselves seem to heave with a tremendous jerk. Rey bites her lip to contain another scream. Nightmare. This is a fucking _nightmare._ Nobody in town is strong enough to rip her fucking house down. _Nobody—_

An enraged roar tears through the still evening. Rey’s mouth goes completely dry. Holy fuck. What is _that?_

Then it hits her: wild animal. Mrs. Tico’s words from earlier ring in her ears: _There’s a wild animal on the loose! Dead grizzlies, dead sheep. Go home, Rey!_

“Oh no,” she whispers. “Oh no, no, no. _Shit._ ” 

So there’s a wild, bloodthirsty animal in her house. That’s happening. That’s really, truly happening, and soon she’ll be as dead as Mr. Calrissian’s poor sheep. 

Silence for a full minute. Uneasy, Rey wonders if the beast got tired of ramming the door and left to seek out better opportunities. She’s really more of a snack than a meal, anyway.

But then, so quickly she barely has time to register what's happening, she hears the front door splinter, and she pictures all the window glass spraying inward. Jagged shards tinkle across the scuffed linoleum like wind chimes, and another furious roar rips through the isolated ranch house. 

A hulking beast charges down the hallway. Straight to her bedroom. Rey hears it happen from beneath the bed covers—it’s so vivid in her mind she might as well be watching it on a movie screen. 

Somehow, she senses exactly what it wants. 

Terrified, Rey claps a hand over her mouth. Fuck this. She’s about to get eaten by a horrifying monster. A rabid, slobbering beast. According to Mrs. Tico, it’s already eaten legions of sheep and bears and who knows what else. Probably moose and elk too. What does it want with _her_? Doesn’t it know—can’t it sense—all the fresh meat in the middle of town? She’s not worth all this effort! 

But the beast is intent on getting to her. 

The bedroom door slams inward without warning, smacking into the opposite wall with such force it leaves a rectangular dent. A scream tears from Rey’s throat, and she’s trembling so violently the bed shakes. Huddling into a tiny ball in the middle of the mattress, she shuts her eyes and waits for razor-sharp teeth to tear through her flesh. Maybe it’ll be quick. That’s the best she can hope for. Her arm flares with sudden heat, and she shudders pitifully. 

But the door crashes to the floor of her bedroom, and everything in the room falls eerily silent, as if frozen. Even more frightening—she doesn’t hear anything from the doorway. No yowling, no heavy breathing, nothing even remotely like a wild animal. Instead, there’s a tense, expectant quiet. 

Then her blankets are ripped from her head, and Rey falls flat on her back. The unveiling is so swift she doesn’t have time to fight back. She stares up at the ceiling, blinking hard. The light has dimmed considerably, and it takes a solid ten seconds for her eyes to adjust. 

What she sees defies comprehension. 

There is a... _man_ towering over her bed. A man, but...not quite. Her mind refuses to categorize it, although her senses scream at her to _run, run, get out!_ But she doesn’t move. 

Rey cowers against the mattress. The man-creature excuses a fetid sort of smell—earthy and raw and frankly unappealing. Her mouth waters, and her upper arm itches again. 

The creature is at least seven feet tall. There’s no way for her to accurately measure him, but his head brushes the ceiling, thick neck corded with muscle and bent slightly to accommodate its unnatural height. It grunts and jerks its chin in her direction, and Rey scrambles up against the headboard, blinking frantically.

What the _fuck?_

The thing doesn’t seem startled by the sudden movement. Its eyes are entirely black—they don’t reflect light but absorb it. Rey notes the sharp planes of its face, the head full of thick black hair. These traits are human, sure enough, but her gaze lowers, and so do her hopes of getting out of this unscathed.

He—this creature is very much a _he_ —is very naked. 

There’s a very fine layer of dark hair on his chest and arms, but not any more than on a regular man. She wouldn’t call it a coat, or even fur. Based on the men she’s seen at the lake during summer break, this kind of hair is typical for males. But there’s blood smeared across his mouth, goopy and thick, as if he fought through something to get here. Definitely atypical.

Oh, and there’s the matter of his extra limb. Beneath his left armpit protrudes a third arm—bicep, forearm, hand and all. All fifteen fingers twitch restlessly at his sides, and when Rey lets out a small gasp, he surges forward. 

Crawling across the mattress with unsettling speed for something so large, the man-creature grabs her by the back of the neck and forces her still. She blinks back tears and stares blankly over one massive shoulder, refusing to believe any of this is happening. He grunts again, chest rumbling with deep but distinctive notes. 

_What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck._

He snaps its teeth when a single tear escapes and rolls down her cheek. Rey flinches, but the man-creature closes the gap between them and licks up the side of her face. Its tongue is rough like sandpaper—reminds her of a cat’s tongue, actually. He licks both sides of her face for good measure before nudging her head with his chin. 

_What?_ she thinks, panicked. _What does that mean?_

Frustrated, the creature growls low in its throat and snaps his teeth again. In a single, fluid motion he rises from the bed and throws Rey over his meaty shoulder. 

All the breath is completely knocked from her lungs. She can’t scream or even cry for rescue. Wheezing, unable to find purchase on the creature’s hard body, she dangles helplessly as he shoves through her bedroom wall and takes off in a sprinting lope for the woods. 

Unkar’s property sits on a decent chunk of land—fifty square acres. A dense patch of forest lines the eastern perimeter of the rancher, and this is where Rey’s captor aims them with single-minded purpose. 

They arrive in a blink, shoot straight past the perimeter, and jerk to a stop about half a mile into the woods. The beast gently sets her down in a pile of dead leaves. The crackle and crunch reminds her of last night’s stupid blood ritual. 

“ _Let me go,_ ” she gasps, struggling to sit up. “Let me go, I don’t want to be—”

At the sound of her voice, the man-creature tosses its head back and bellows. The sound seems to travel for miles—the night air is still and brittle with cold. It’ll snow again, and soon. He thumps his chest and flashes his teeth in a terrifying grin. She scoots back, kicking her feet to keep his multiple arms from reaching for her. 

It’s only as he stands above her, feet planted on either side of her waist, that she gets a close-up look at the monstrous appendage dangling between his legs. She’s avoided it for so long because her brain’s barely been able to reconcile his third arm and unabashed nakedness, let alone his exposed genitals. 

Her mind doesn’t know what to latch on to first. There are small protrusions all over his cock. Blunt mounds extend an inch in every direction like raised polka dots. As it nears her face, the smooth tip begins to expand and deflate like some sort of deep-sea creature. His cock pulses a dark green and purple. Veins of color snake across his ridged stomach up towards his chest. A low, continuous rumble vibrates throughout his body, like an engine set to idle. 

Rey can’t contain a whimper. She thought the _third arm_ was startling enough. The sight of his cock makes her feel faint. It’s the most terrifying thing she’s ever seen, and not just because she knows what it means when a cock curves up like that in the presence of a female. 

Alien, that’s what he is—a goddamn fucking alien. Not a human, not a mix of beast and man—an alien dropped straight from outer space to wreak havoc in her home and kidnap her to the woods in the middle of winter. 

Just her luck. 

The man-creature drops to its knees—a graceful move for one so tall—and straddles her waist. He rips off her hoodie and t-shirt, easily managing her flailing arms, and shoves two fingers into her mouth. Her screams are cut short, and at first she gags. He tastes like soil and grass. 

Not knowing what else to do, she sucks, and the alien-beast-man seems pleased. His other two arms make quick work of her clothes until she’s as naked as he is. 

He grunts and leans forward to lick her cheeks again. There are no tears this time, but that doesn’t seem to bother him. His tongue trails over her jaw and down her throat. He makes harsh snuffling sounds as he examines her neck. 

Rey lies frozen. She can’t even speak—his fingers are still jammed in her mouth, and every so often he’ll wiggle them to get her sucking. The repetitive motion is weirdly soothing, and she lets her mind drift as the creature runs his free hands up and down her naked body. 

This isn’t _so_ bad. In fact, she feels strangely comfortable. Like she somehow swallowed a space heater that’s keeping her warm from within. Being in his presence is a little like being high—she feels floaty, and the world around her goes soft and dream-like. 

Everything the man-creature does seems slightly tinged with panic, with a tightly controlled desperation. He noses her hairline, huffing at the coconut scent, and eats a few stray pieces. His calloused thumbs press into her hip bones, and then he’s licking her face again. With his very pointed tongue. 

Rey tries not to squirm. The licking is a little much. Frankenstein never uses his tongue in his porn videos. Well, not on the woman’s _face,_ anyway. 

Despite everything—especially the weird fucking licking—there’s an expanding warmth in her stomach. It’s no longer a space heater. She’s not sure how to explain the sensation. Something about being pinned like this makes her feel...safe. It would be quite an exaggeration to say she _likes_ it here, yet she doesn’t really mind what's going on. Just like her monster porn, it’s weird but kind of hot. 

Rey’s distantly aware that there’s a part of her mind—growing smaller by the minute—that’s been screaming from the first tap on her front door. It reminds her this isn’t right. Nothing about him or this situation is normal. 

But the deep rumbling in his chest is soothing, and his earthy scent calms her nerves. He seamlessly utilizes his three arms in such a way that it’s easy to forget there’s one too many. Even his freaky-looking dick has taken a back seat. If he would just keep her pinned to the forest floor, thick fingers in her mouth, tongue sweeping across her body, for the rest of the night, she might be completely fine with that. She just might be.

“What’s your name?” she blurts. But around his fingers, it’s a jumbled mess. Incomprehensible. _Ah oo aim?_

Still, the creature stops moving. His tongue is moving in swirls inside her ear canal. After a thoughtful pause, those empty black eyes beaming down at her, he bites her nose. She yelps, and he drags his fingers from her mouth. 

“Ky,” he grunts, the veins in his neck standing out like live wires. It’s clear he doesn’t often speak. “Ky—“

Rey’s forehead wrinkles. She ignores the fact that she’s naked. She ignores the thick bulge of his unnatural cock as it lies on her stomach, pulsating and flickering muted shades of green and purple. She ignores the idea that she’s actually been kidnapped and that this thing’s tongue has already explored quite a few of her body’s crevices. 

The warmth in her stomach has expanded to her chest. Honestly, at this point she wouldn’t be surprised to find herself glowing. She likes being here, she realizes. It’s wrong, she knows it’s wrong, but her body doesn’t care. It lies limp and receptive, even eager, under his careful ministrations. 

_Not right,_ her mind whispers. _That’s not right._

“Ky,” he chokes again, voice deep and guttural like he’s speaking through gravel. “Lo.”

 _Kylo?_ She’s never heard that word before. That name. It doesn’t mean anything to her, although she doesn’t know why it would.

“Oh,” she says softly.

Apparently satisfied by this exchange, he goes back to licking her face. His rough tongue runs across her brows, and she flinches. Gross. He grunts disapprovingly and places a hand on her forehead to keep her still, then begins to lick her eyeballs. 

“No, no,” she says uneasily, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that. Please stop—“

But he ignores her protests and forces her eyes open. It’s painful and such an unsettling sensation she fears she might vomit. No matter how much she pushes and squirms, he keeps mindlessly licking her eyes, the tip of his pointed tongue digging deep into her sockets.

“I don’t like this,” she whispers to herself. He’s not listening and doesn’t appear to care what she wants. Fear trickles past the syrupy thick warmth that’s slicked over her mind. 

Kylo’s mouth eventually moves to her shoulder, and he bites down once, hard, breaking skin and sucking away beads of blood before nibbling his way down her arm. That’s when she notices the simple word marked on his bicep. It’s crude, as if carved by a blunt instrument, and only three letters. 

She recoils and blinks rapidly, trying to dispel the revolting memory of his tongue on her eyeballs. When she recognizes the word, her stomach heaves.

 _Rey._ Her name. Carved into the flesh of his arm. 

“ _Stop!_ ” she cries again, shoving at his chest. Her movements are frantic now, too. Enough with this insanity. _Enough._

Kylo grunts and flicks his tongue over her pebbled nipples before biting down on the soft flesh of her breast. She shrieks, but he keeps his teeth sunk deep enough to break skin. Tears roll down her cheeks at the pain, and he slams a massive fist in the dirt beside her head, obviously agitated. 

He retracts his teeth when it's clear she won’t stop struggling and licks up her tears again. The motion soothes them both for a second, and Rey releases an unsteady sigh as he cradles her breasts. It’s an oddly intimate position. His third arm snakes around her waist and raises her hips off the forest floor. 

“What are you—“ she manages, and then the blunt tip of his cock penetrates her folds. 

She’s stunned to find herself already wet. Even worse, as he glides his way seamlessly inside, her body seems to open for him. Her legs hitch up around his waist, and her thighs flex to allow him more room. Her back arches off the ground to guide him deep, and a satisfied sigh escapes her mouth. 

All the while, her mind is screaming at her to get away, to run, to hide, to lock her door and never again leave her bed. 

Kylo grunts again, adjusting the angle of his hips. The head of his cock brushes her cervix, but he’s not quite seated all the way inside her yet. She feels him expanding and deflating again, but she doesn’t know what it means. Restless, she attempts to fight the hold he has over her, the weird spell—

Flashes from last night swarm her head. Kneeling among dead leaves. Blood on her finger. Rose’s voice firm and unwavering as it chanted in another language. The innocuous wooden box positioned in the middle of their little circle, so plain and unsuspecting.

 _To find our true love,_ Rose explained to her the day before in math class. _It could be anyone, Rey! Don’t you want to know?_

Rey suddenly shivers. _Anyone._ What if their stupid faux-Satanic ritual actually summoned something? Not from space, either, but from the very dirt beneath their feet? What if all this time something in the shadows has been waiting for a summons? 

But she doesn’t believe in that shit. She doesn’t. 

Rey is brought back to reality and moans in pain as his cock inflates, filling her up so totally that she feels stuffed to bursting. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, and the weight of his cock is much too heavy to be normal. There’s an intense pressure, too, and as Kylo crams himself as deep as can go, her bicep begins to burn.

It’s no longer simply tingling or itching like before. This is an intense heat, almost unbearable. She whines again, twisting her body, and Kylo snaps his teeth by her ear. He pushes her hips into the earth and starts to thrust, his cock tearing through what feels like skin and bones. The friction is like fire, like molten lava. 

“ _Don’t_ ,” she gasps, even as her hands dig into his shoulders. Her body betrays her by tightening around him. It doesn’t make sense, why she’s grabbing for him, why one half of her is trying so hard to keep him close while the other half revolts. “ _Don’t!_ ” 

But the creature pinning her down doesn’t notice. He grunts several times and snaps his hips into hers, forcing her limp and malleable. Any resistance and his mammoth body will crush her—she pictures it vividly. Snapped bones, flattened limbs, desperate wheezing as her lungs collapse. He is too big, and he doesn’t seem to care right now if she’s uncomfortable. 

In a blink, Kylo goes from rough, even strokes to a full-on rut. His wrinkled balls, dappled green and twice the size of a normal man’s, slap smartly against her pussy. She cries out, the scream ripped from her throat like someone’s wrapped a fist around it and dragged it from her chest. Her body is alight with pain. Burning. Burning everywhere.

Kylo’s still grunting, but it sounds like words now. No longer formless, the guttural exclamations slowly begin to take shape. Rey kicks a foot, and he uses two arms to brace himself above her while the third slides between her legs and roughly rubs her clit. The pad of his thumb is really warm, and the frantic stimulation makes her teeth clench and her neck arch against the dirt and leaves. 

“ _Mate_.” Distantly, Rey’s aware of that one word, repeated again and again, in time with his thrusts. “ _Mate, mate, mate._ ” 

_Soulmate,_ she remembers Rose saying with a big smile. _You might find your soulmate._

_Are you happy now?_ she thinks numbly, gasping as Kylo’s fingers slide around on her clit. She orgasms with a helpless sob and immediately braces for a second one. _My soulmate is an alien. My soulmate is a beast. My soulmate is a monster._

In no time at all Kylo’s bellowing his release, head thrown back as liquid fire burns deep inside her womb. Moaning, Rey lies limply as he licks her mouth and neck free of the tears and sweat mingled on her skin. His saliva smells like the forest after a rainstorm, and she finds herself turning her head, seeking his lips. 

“Ky,” he groans, dipping his tongue so far into her mouth she gags. “Lo. Mate.”

His spend leaks down her thighs and splatters across her belly when he pulls out. Squeezing the pulsating length in one fist, Kylo collects drops of pearly white liquid from the inflated head and smears it on her mouth. She wrinkles her nose and twists away again, freezing on the forest floor, but he bares his teeth and shoves his fingers into her mouth until she has no choice but to suck and swallow. 

“Mate,” he repeats, satisfied. “Rey. Mate.” 

_He knows my name?_ she thinks, stunned. Pleasure recedes for a moment. _How? How does he know that?_

Grabbing her hips with two hands and feeding her his steaming cum with the third, Kylo sinks back inside her pussy, black eyes fluttering closed, as if in ecstasy. 

“Hurts,” she whimpers, covering her face. Her mind is at war with itself. More, her body demands. _Get me away from here,_ her thoughts scream. She’s left helpless and immobile, nailed down by a debilitating indecisiveness. 

And something else, too. Something new, something ancient. Something that thrills every time Kylo speaks his monosyllabic language, that tightens in anticipation when his cock seeks to fill her womb. 

They go a second round, and a third and a fourth. Time unspools like a thread. The slap of their bodies meeting becomes meaningless. At some point, Rey is distantly aware of a pause, a brief reprieve when Kylo withdraws and scrambles out of view. For minutes or hours, for days—she doesn’t know. 

Exhaustion threatens to drag her under, but she knows if she falls asleep out here, there’s a very high chance she will never wake again. Instead, she’ll freeze to death. Only Kylo’s massive, alien body has been keeping her safe and warm. So much time has passed since they started that she no longer minds him lying on top of her; the weight feels nice. Like, in an odd sense, it’s where she belongs. Comforted and cared for, licked clean and inundated with pleasure. 

_Is this the way things are supposed to be?_ she wonders, stretching out her tired, overused limbs. She’s lost count of the number of orgasms she’s had in the past...however many hours. 

Kylo’s not a man, that much is clear, and her name is somehow, unexplainably, seared into his skin, but maybe that’s not so bad, either. He sure seems to like her; even simple-minded beasts don’t just rut with anyone. 

The man-creature returns a minute later, lumbering into view with unnatural speed. His shoulders are scratched where she tore into his flesh with her nails, and his cock is still slicked with cum. As soon as he notices she’s awake and moving, the blunt head bobs to life and points directly at her like a homing beacon. 

Baring his teeth and glaring around at the silent forest, he bellows so loudly her eardrums ache and then thumps his chest. She shivers at the meaty sound, her body responding to the wild call, and his eyes zero in on her from across the clearing. Already, she knows that look. 

“No more,” she murmurs, even as he sinks to his knees, rolls her onto her stomach, and yanks her hips up. His third arm holds the back of her neck, and she moans as he impales her once again.

Their rutting is fast and loud and desperate. She can barely see straight—his thrusts are erratic, hips moving with the force and speed of a jackhammer. Her lower half is slicked with cum, and her nipples are sensitive to the touch. Even a strong breeze is enough to set her off now. 

An orgasm hits her by surprise, then another, and another. Rey sobs and pushes her forehead into the mossy earth, wondering when it’ll be enough. Wondering when he'll take his fill and leave her be. Yet the very idea makes her stomach twist in pain. She doesn’t _want_ to be left behind. A secret, animal part of her brain wants to be used just like this, for years on end. Prostrated, speared open, filled up. If he decides to keep her pinned down here for the rest of time, she might not fight it. 

God, she is so fucking _confused._

Rey fades out for a while. Her mate’s hands stroke her skin, soothing, comforting, until she falls unconscious. She wakes some time later to a familiar burning in her arm. Her eyes flicker blindly around the clearing, and she notices—they’re somewhere different. Kylo’s moved them. 

They’re in a field now. A huge one. As far as she can see in any direction, there’s open space. Farmland, glazed with frost and patches of snow. Dawn light spears across the black sky, highlighting jagged rows of dead undergrowth. It must be below freezing by now, but Kylo’s buried inside her again, and his warmth keeps away the devastating chill. 

“Where are we?” she slurs, blearily searching for her mate’s eyes. Her fingers graze thick muscle. 

“ _Rey._ ” 

At the sound of her name, her eyes snap open. Kylo kisses her sloppily on the mouth, saliva trailing between their lips. Even as his fingers stroke her sore muscles, his cock deflates and releases a flood of cum. Her body laps it up greedily, as if they haven’t been going at it for hours on end already. 

The pain in her arm comes and goes without any clear pattern or reason. She gasps and whimpers at the searing heat, wishing desperately for it to stop. Kylo occasionally nudges her chin to get at her neck—he’ll rumble reassuringly against her throat until the pain lessens, then return to fucking her until they both cum. Semi-conscious, she limply maneuvers into whatever position Kylo desires in order to fuck more cum into her. 

Eventually, Rey opens her eyes for the last time. She’s fully, startlingly awake in an instant. The sky is a light blue, edged in muted yellows, pinks, and oranges. An unimportant thought fills her pleasure-addled brain: Valentine’s Day is over. It’s the fifteenth—the day of discount candy and holiday clearance. Rose will be eager to hit all the CVS and Walgreens in the area. 

But that life already seems so very far removed. 

Awareness dawns. She’s cradled in Kylo’s lap, her legs hooked loosely around his waist, her head on his chest. He’s rumbling again—purring, almost—and running his fingers through her hair. She’s seated on his balls, his cock pulsing rhythmically between their bellies. Satiny white cum dribbles from the tip in a steady stream. It pools between her thighs, warm and syrupy thick. 

She yawns and rubs her crusty eyes. “Kylo?”

He grunts and mouths at her hair. His three arms wrap tightly around her, and she realizes belatedly that they’re rocking on the frozen earth. The motion is soothing enough to send her back to sleep, but Kylo licks her bicep, and the pain startles her wide awake. 

“Ow!” Rey frowns and blinks at him. His expression doesn’t change, but he bites her nose apologetically. 

Craning her neck around, searching for the source of the pain, she gasps at the sight of the fresh wound. It’s obviously brand new—red and raw and glossy, as if she’s been burned or branded. No more than a second passes before she realizes it perfectly matches the one on her mate’s arm.

Etched deep into her skin is his name. _Kylo._

She flinches and stares up at him, speechless. Something about the set of his face tells her he’s satisfied by this modification. In fact, his lips curve into what might be a smirk. He licks the letters of his name again, careful not to agitate the skin. 

Some of the fog clears from her brain. Terror leaks past the complacency. “I don’t like this,” she whispers into his chest, bending her head so he can’t see her eyes. “I don’t like this at all, please—”

Kylo inhales sharply and adjusts his hips until his shaft is nestled between her pussy lips. His cock head expands and deflates repeatedly, green and purple swirling up and down his intimidating length. 

“I want to go home now.” Her voice is so soft it’s barely audible. The words sound right, she knows they do, but for some reason her body refuses to believe the truth of them. 

Her hands twine tightly around his back, squeezing like someone’s trying to pull her away. She sniffs the hollow of his neck, and the smell immediately makes her wet and aching for him. Her lower body clenches, anticipating another rut. 

_I don’t want to be anybody’s mate,_ she thinks despairingly. As if she has a choice now. 

“Kylo—“ she starts, breathing into his chest. 

He suddenly grabs her chin and forces them to make eye contact. Her heart misses a beat, and the fog descends again. “ _Mine._ Here. Mate.” 

“Here,” she whispers, staring up into those endless black depths. Here with her mate. Here with him. 

“ _Mate,_ ” he insists, and runs a calloused thumb across the newly inscribed promise. “Mate.” 

Rey nods, resigned. “I’m your mate.”

Kylo smiles, teeth flashing, and surges to his feet. As he begins to make his way across the dead fields, she does not scream or struggle or demand to be released. 

Instead, she hugs her monster and does not let go.

**Author's Note:**

> **❤️ "happy" valentine’s day! 🖤**
> 
> **also uh apologies for the slow in updates 😬 ive been more depressed than normal & unmotivated, but i hope to resume soon!**
> 
> ✨~~say hi! (or come yell at me)~~✨  
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